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The Tufts Daily
Where you read it first | Friday, November 15, 2024

Public access to contraception: Not a religious matter

The current birth control controversy has been thoroughly politicized, but it is controversial precisely because some people, including the Catholic priesthood and many evangelicals, believe that artificial birth control is morally wrong. What is less often considered is the question of when it is morally right to bring a child into the world.

If I were a woman of childbearing age, I would want to know, at every moment, whether or not I wanted to have a child, and when. Many, perhaps even most, women have no difficulty coming to a decision about this - they do, or they don't, want to bear a child at some particular point in their lives. They want to plan for the possibility and carry it out, or not. They don't want to be pregnant without deciding beforehand. The decision to conceive and bear a child isn't an instantaneous decision. It is the most fundamental moral decision that most women are likely to have in their lives, and it is considered and renewed by every potential mother every waking day.

Such a decision involves planning and, above all, planning for the future of the child to be brought into the world. And often it isn't simply a matter of how one might feel about the comfort and consolation of being a parent, but just as much a matter of whether a child will be properly cared for eighteen years or so, or whether one is properly equipped to provide nurture, care and love. Many of us recognize that we don't have that capability, at some particular time, even when we might reasonably expect that later on we will.

If I were a young woman of childbearing age, I might not feel financially or emotionally ready for the responsibility of starting a family. I might not have an opportunity to provide for a child in proper surroundings - I lost my job and my house is being foreclosed, aggression or civil war are threatening my country, my husband just died and had no life insurance. I might have a disease that I know would be fatal before my child could grow up - a disease like cancer or cystic fibrosis. Or I might be paraplegic, or bipolar and below the poverty line with no prospect of rising above it. Or, even more simply, I might not want to have a child, for whatever reason. Some of us, indeed, know that we will never be in a position to care for a child and decide conscientiously, on that account, not to become parents.

It is futile to inquire deeply into the reasons why I, if I were a woman, might not want to have a child, whether now or at some point in the future, or ever. Whatever might be the reason, you can understand why, as a matter of conscience, I would not want to bear a child if I knew I were unable to provide proper care. So, why should the decision to bear a child be anybody's but mine?

There are two separate questions in the current birth control controversy.

First: The Catholic Church teaches that the practice of artificial birth control is a sin for Catholics, and indeed immoral for anyone. That is the official teaching of a church whose officers and teachers, the priesthood, do not themselves have to be concerned about becoming pregnant. Yet reputable evidence shows that this teaching is simply not followed by 95 percent of all Catholic women at some time in their lives. One cannot believe that this represents Catholic women's desire to disobey church teaching simply out of contrariness or mere frivolity. One has to assume that for serious Catholics, the use of artificial birth control results from a decision based on conscience. Even the most doctrinaire among the priesthood would hardly advise a woman to violate her own conscience. As for women who aren't Catholic, what the church teaches about birth control isn't anybody's concern. Yes, the church does officially sanction the so?called rhythm method of birth control, but this method is simply not as reliable as long?established artificial methods.

Second: Whether hospitals, clinics, or pharmacies should dispense birth?control devices or prescription medications as a matter of conscience shouldn't be an issue at all. A hospital, whether supported by the Catholic Church or not, is a public institution in the sense that it serves the public as a whole. A Catholic hospital doesn't serve only Catholics; it cannot make the rules for any patient on religious grounds, only on medical grounds. The same is true of companies that provide medical insurance to the public. A medical?insurance company is required by law to provide insurance for any medically necessary condition, as determined by the patient's physician, and whether or not a patient should use artificial birth control by prescription should be a matter of concern to the patient and her physician and no one else. Thus, a pharmacist cannot legally refuse to fill a prescription for birth?control pills simply because he feels that such a prescription violates his personal religious beliefs. The pharmacist is licensed to provide a public service; if he believes that he cannot conscientiously fulfill a legal prescription, then he should not be in business.

A recent article in the Primary Source said, "Contraception coverage will be offered to women by their employers' insurance companies directly, with no role for religious employers who oppose contraception." Certainly as an individual, any employer has the right to be personally opposed to contraception, but is it even thinkable that an employer has the right to forbid his employees from using contraception?

Rush Limbaugh's recent attack on Sandra Fluke is contemptible in its meanness, but what is even worse is that it is silly. What Rush is trying to say, and what the vast majority of "family values" conservatives have endorsed, is a denial of the most important result of the sexual revolution that began in the 1960s: the moral right of anyone, at the age of 18 or over, to engage in consensual sexual behavior with anyone one chooses. This moral right is also a legal right that has been recognized almost everywhere. By common consent this right is limited in certain ways, e.g., not in broad daylight in public places, nor as an article of commerce; but as a private right, in private confines, no law can deny it, notwithstanding the thundering of "family values" authoritarians from evangelical pulpits.

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Mark DeVoto is Professor of Music, emeritus, at Tufts University.